4.06.2012

El monigote / José Antonio Ramos Sucre

The Lay Brother

The seneschal, observing the council of Ambroise Paré had saved us from the poison by means of sulfur. We felt, however, the consequences of a wine of metallic flavor.

The courtesans, dressed in white satin, remained indifferent and turned out to be free from evil. They had been born in Venice and were helping the ambassador of their republic, the greatest spy in history. We didn’t suspect the interest of this character in following our steps and we enthusiastically received in our presence the red-haired women of lily-white faces. We lived enchanted with Italy and had even reached the point of defending, sword in hand, the name of Vignola, denying the havoc of his doctrine in French art.

The king’s servers, solidly armed, appeared on the highest landing of the staircase and came down to arrest us without danger. We were entering in an insensible manner a type of lethargy and we attributed it to a polyp served at our table, notwithstanding the censure of the doctors of Antiquity. We would interrupt the infernal drowsiness with screams of fright and fury and we diverted the attention of the fortress sentinels.

I was separated from my companions and submitted to a more humane treatment. I have accepted from the king an invitation to embrace the priestly state, hoping to imitate the levity of Rabelais.

I haven’t been able to find out the situation of my accomplices. Diane de Poitiers is accustomed to selling the enemies of the king of France to the sultan of Turkey, for twenty crowns a piece.